


holier than thou

by trevor (vrede)



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Blood, Choking, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Imbalance, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, batter has a power kink and zacharie is lowkey into it, but in like. the loosest sense of the term, the batter has a not-quite-god complex, trans zacharie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26787043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vrede/pseuds/trevor
Summary: The Batter has absolute control over everyone, even when they don't realize it. Zacharie, despite knowing this better than anyone, doesn't seem to care. Perhaps he could change that.
Relationships: The Batter/Zacharie
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	holier than thou

**Author's Note:**

> uhhhh i got off brainrot and theres not enough content focusing on batter being obsessed with his 'divinity' so ig i just gotta do everything myself huh. also just wanted to write trans zacharie bcus its epic  
> unrelated tangent but id recommend looking up alligator bellows/hisses to get a better idea of the sounds that batter makes in this fic! i hc him as very reptilian and that includes the noises he makes :]

The Batter's mission was sacred. It was something he did not take lightly, and he would not let anything get in the way of his goals. Any opposition met a swift and brutal death at the hands of the purifier. He considered himself greater than any other being that walked the four Zones- his divinity was absolute. Was the Batter a god? No, not exactly. In his own mind, he was simply a holy vessel through which the will of what he believed to be a divine entity laid waste to the land. Imbued with abilities beyond comprehension, all in the name of his divine quest.

In all of his holiness, however, the Batter was not free from sin. His penchant for violence and bloodshed, led on by his puppeteer, was often in excess. When the strings were loosened and control gifted unto him, perhaps the purifier killed with too much of a sense of sick glee. Maybe he relished in the crunch of his bat against bone more than anyone claiming righteousness ever should. The Batter's own pride could often get the best of him, as well. He did not think himself a god, but something damn near close to one. When the Elsen cowered at his feet in hopes of mercy, as if praying before an altar, the purifier couldn't help but bask in the feeling of absolute control.

Perhaps that's what the Batter loved most of all. The rush of being in complete control of another, holding their life in his hands. The knowledge that he could end it all with the flick of his bat. It was laughably easy.

The Batter held control over everyone in their wretched world, whether they knew it or not. None knew it better than the lowly merchant, Zacharie. An absolute bastard, he was. Too self-aware for his own damn good, with enough confidence to go toe-to-toe with the Batter in a game of wits any day. Usual intimidation tactics had no effect on the merchant, and any talk of the Batter's sacred mission was met with curt laughs and an insistence on buying something or getting out. It was as if Zacharie didn't even realize just how important his holy mission was, or perhaps he did and just didn't give a shit. Either way, it infuriated the Batter to no end. He had no way of drilling into that thick skull to let Zacharie know just how insignificant he was compared to him, at least not through violence and fear.

But maybe, just maybe, there was another cardinal sin that would speak to that goddamn merchant.

\---

The building Zacharie had set up shop in this time was cramped, to say the least. It felt more like a broom closet than anything. A table had been set up as a counter, and half the room was taken up by the various junk the merchant had to sell to unsuspecting customers. The Batter had strut in with that typical overinflated confidence, backside awash in the soft white light of his Add-Ons. Zacharie would never admit it out loud, lest he fuel the purifier's bizarre complex, but he looked almost angelic. There was...something else in the air about him, but Zacharie couldn't quite put his finger on it. Regardless, it was in his programming to sell to the Batter, and that is what he would do.

"Welcome, welcome, _mi amigo._ Looking for something in particular?" Zacharie put his chin in his palm, observing the Batter as if he were a particularly fascinating insect. The Batter simply growled- a low, rumbling sound, akin to the bellow of an alligator. His four eyes were narrowed to slits beneath the brim of his hat. Zacharie could laugh- he was not one to be intimidated.

"Yes, I am. I was looking for you." Getting right down to business, it seemed. The merchant raised an inquisitive eyebrow, not that the Batter could see. He leaned forward slightly, his fingers just barely pushing up his mask. _His puppeteer's strings are missing,_ Zacharie noted in the back of his mind.

"Is that so? Well, congratulations, because you have found me. Did you want a prize?" Zacharie spoke with all the nonchalance of discussing the daily paper, and it made the Batter's blood boil. His right eyes twitched in irritation. It took all his strength not to just grab the merchant by the neck and squeeze the life out of him. Hell, if he tried that then the bastard would just laugh and egg him on.

Lip curled back in a sneer, the Batter slammed his hands down on the table without warning. Zacharie didn't even flinch. A frustrated bellow rumbled from the purifier's throat, and that was able to elicit a barely-perceivable shudder. The sneer morphed into a cocky grin, and the Batter leaned in closer. His four eyes trained on the merchant, blinking independently.

"Perhaps I do want a prize," the Batter purred, another bellow sounding from him. Zacharie was putting up a good fight, but the Batter could see that his actions were beginning to have an effect. If he'd known it would be this easy, he would've tried this method a lot sooner. They were almost nose-to-nose when the purifier slid his hands across the table, moving to rest on Zacharie's forearms. His grip was gentle, but the sharp pinprick of his claws was still felt. "And the prize I want," his lips brushed against the merchant's mask, "is you." Zacharie honest-to-god _whined_ , though he'd tried his damnedest to hide it.

The Batter relished in his power over the other.

Perhaps subconsciously, Zacharie began to slowly push his mask up. It was just enough to reveal his lips, and the tip of his nose. It was all the Batter needed, really. He was quick to take advantage, pressing his lips to the merchant's with a calculated desire. The Batter would give what he needed to get Zacharie compliant, and withhold when necessary to get him to sing his praises like a church choir. He nibbled at Zacharie's bottom lip, encouraging him to open his mouth to an eager black tongue. The two kept up a game of sorts- the Batter would dominate Zacharie's mouth with his inhumanly long tongue, practically choking him on it. He would purposefully relent at times, to let Zacharie believe he has the upper hand. A game of cat and mouse, where the mouse doesn't realize its already been caught. 

The two parted for air, an inky string of saliva connecting their mouths. The Batter had to admit, Zacharie was taking this like a champ. The only indication of his crumbling resolve was his shaky breaths. One of the Batter's hands slowly traveled upward, until it rested on the merchant's throat. He swiped his thumb over the other's pulse. It was flighty and uncertain- the frog struggling with whether or not to trust the scorpion.

Zacharie was certainly well aware of the fact that the Batter could kill him like this. It'd be easy, really. Just a quick squeeze or a claw across his jugular. And as much as he hated to admit it, it was turning him on more than anything had in his short programmed life. The Batter's aura was entirely predatory. Nonetheless, the merchant ached for any sense of intimacy, even if he couldn't tell if it was genuine. In a fit of confidence, Zacharie grabbed the Batter's wrist and pressed it harder against his throat. His lips curled back into an easygoing smile. The Batter's smirk faltered.

"If you want me, then you should go all out. I don't expect anything less." Zacharie leaned in slightly, that casual smile never leaving his face. The Batter felt himself getting irritated again. His hand tightened on the merchant's throat, claws digging into his skin. The Batter eyed the first rivulet of blood that trailed down the column of Zacharie's throat. He felt him swallow.

They stared at each other for a moment. Zacharie's pulse continued to race under the Batter's grip. It was evidence that this confidence was a facade, a way to hide his emotions, just like his face. The Batter would just have another mask to break.

"Do you believe in my mission, Zacharie?" The Batter broke the silence, his voice betraying no emotion. Zacharie almost laughed, but settled for an uncaring shrug.

"I suppose I am programmed to believe in it, so yes, Batter, I do believe in your holy quest." Zacharie's casual tone infuriated the Batter. He spoke as if his mission was some silly game. His hand tightened. He wanted to press, but ultimately decided to shift gears.

"Do you believe I am a divine being?"

Zacharie couldn't hold back a bark of laughter at that, which trailed off into a wheeze as the iron grip on his throat tightened once more. He was still smiling.

"Do you consider yourself one, _amigo?_ I can't say for sure." Toying with the Batter was Zacharie's favorite pastime, second to taking his credits. The purifier seemed to contemplate his answer, before yanking him back by the throat to press their lips together once more. The Batter kissed with a fabricated desperation, a way to make Zacharie think his words had a greater effect than they did. When their lips parted, the purifier continued to hold the other nose-to-nose.

"I will have to show you some conviction, then."

The grip on Zacharie's throat didn't falter as the Batter smoothly climbed up and over the table being used as a counter. The merchant was simply dragged along to whichever direction the purifier faced, a dog choking on its collar. He was unceremoniously dragged towards the pile of junk in the back of the 'store,' the grip on his neck releasing in order to toss him back into a bundle of tunics and luck tickets. The Batter was quick to straddle him, taking Zacharie's wrists in one hand to pin over his head. He looked over the small pinpricks in the merchant's neck, admiring the small beads of blood that welled almost lazily.

"I must say, I'm excited to see where this goes. What's going on in that mind of yours, o righteous purifier?" The sneer on Zacharie's face was just as evident in his voice. A low bellow was the only answer he got. The Batter wouldn't let Zacharie's sharp tongue get to him. After all, there was plenty of time to get the man to praise him with utmost sincerity. The Batter brought his free hand to Zacharie's cheek, pressing against it gently. His thumb stroked across the man's cheek, and the surprising intimacy of it made Zacharie shudder. He was quick to press himself further into the Batter's palm, nuzzling it. The Batter grinned.

Intimacy was the merchant's Achilles heel. With enough affection, the Batter could get Zacharie to do just about anything he wished. While he teased over intimidation and laughed when threatened, soft and fleeting touches made him submissive. The Batter could make a believer of him yet.

The Batter began things with a slow roll of his hips. It was merely a trial, a gauge to see how Zacharie would react. He was almost immediately receptive. His hips slowly, almost shyly moved with the purifier's, trying to meet him and get more of that friction. It didn't take much longer for Zacharie to start moaning. The Batter's grin widened into something toothier.

"What do you want, _cher Zacharie?_ Tell me." The Batter growled, leaning down to pepper small kisses across Zacharie's lower jaw. The man was quick to bear his throat to the purifier, and he knew it wasn't a sign of trust- it was a sign of desperation. The Batter's lips pressed against the merchant's pulse, kisses featherlight. Zacharie took a moment to reply, gathering his bearings.

"Isn't it obvious?" Zacharie bit out, teeth clenched. "I am not a patient man, _querido bateador._ Don't keep me waiting."

The Batter held back a chuckle. It was cute, how Zacharie thought he had any ounce of influence over his choices. The purifier had every intention of drawing things out.

He continued to trail his lips across Zacharie's throat, pressing kisses to his pulse. The purifier was content to simply feel the blood rushing through the man's veins for a moment. He thought of closing his jaws around Zacharie's jugular and _ripping._ It'd be so easy. Even if his teeth didn't sharpen to points, were straight and white and maybe too perfect, he had the power to cleave through the soft flesh like a knife through butter. The Batter wondered what Zacharie would sound like choking on his own blood.

Instead, he settled for soft love bites to the merchant's neck. He would occasionally bite down hard enough to leave a pretty mark. His free hand had made a home for itself cupping Zacharie's jaw, tilting it upwards even when the man had done so willingly. Zacharie was clearly enjoying the treatment, whining whenever the Batter gave him a new hickey, or ran his tongue along his pulse.

An ever-growing restlessness on Zacharie's end told the Batter that he was getting impatient with him. The merchant wanted more, _now._ And while the purifier would've been content with just the man's pulse on his lips, he decided to show some small pity.

The Batter released Zacharie's wrists, and sat back up on his lap. With his hands now freed, the merchant placed them on the other's thighs tentatively. The purifier casually shed his tunic, taking his sweet damn time to get the other even more riled up. After the white fabric hit the floor, the Batter trailed his fingers under the hem of Zacharie's shirt.

" _Enlève ça, s'il te plaît._ " The Batter said quietly, tugging on the other's shirt for emphasis. Zacharie didn't have to be told twice, and his own shirt joined the Batter's a few moments later. The purifier smiled sweetly, but his eyes gave off the air of a predator cornering its prey. Things had barely even started, and Zacharie was already following orders, how cute. Large hands pressed insistently into Zacharie's now-exposed chest, sharp claws digging into soft skin. The masked man arched his back slightly, pressing up into the Batter's palms. He whined low in his throat, and the purifier could tell from the way his body stiffened that it had been unintentional.

"Such pretty sounds you make, _cher marchand,_ " the Batter praised hollowly, "will you let me hear more?"

Zacharie soaked up the praise eagerly. He had always been a sucker for sweet talk. His moans became louder, and his desperation more apparent. The Batter merely cooed soft praises to him, kissing along the shell of the merchant's ear. Each sugary sweet word was more sickly than the last. If Zacharie knew that the compliments were empty and meaningless, he didn't seem to care.

" _M-monsieur Batter, s'il vous plaît,_ " Zacharie whined, "I-I need more, please..."

Poor thing. The Batter continued to trail kisses along Zacharie's jaw as his fingers slid below the waistband of the man's pants. He idly stroked the merchant's hip bone, claws teasing the skin there. If the neck kisses had been a hammer to Zacharie's resolve, then this was a wrecking ball. He moaned unabashedly, pressing his hips up into the Batter in hopes of more. The purifier was kind enough to undo Zacharie's jeans and slide them down with his briefs, and the almost sobs of relief he got in turn proved how grateful the man was. Zacharie kicked his pants off the rest of the way, leaving him bare to the Batter.

After repositioning himself between Zacharie's legs, the Batter gave him a once-over. The merchant's cunt glistened with slick, evidence of his neediness. The small bud of nerves twitched. The Batter made a low hiss in his throat.

"Look at you, you miserable thing. I've barely done a thing to you and you're already so debauched. Absolutely sinful." The Batter snarled, one hand roughly gripping Zacharie's hip as the other spread the merchant's lips apart. The man could only whine pitifully, like a wounded animal. He pressed into the purifier's fingers, trying to get one to slip inside. The Batter swiped his thumb over Zacharie's clit, making him writhe. Short, breathy moans punctuated the air.

One of the Batter's fingers eventually slid inside the merchant, and he practically howled. Being mindful of his claws, the purifier set an agonizingly slow pace, sliding his finger in and out with surprising tenderness. It was apparent that wasn't what Zacharie wanted, however. He tried his damnedest to grind back down on that lone finger despite the strong hand holding his hips still. The Batter laughed, low in his throat.

" _Chose misérable, misérable,_ " the Batter cooed, sickeningly sweet. He removed his hand from Zacharie's heat to card fingers through his hair in mocking adoration. He didn't bother to clean his fingers. Zacharie glared half-hearted daggers at the purifier, aching folds twitching at the loss of contact.

" _Pinche maldito,_ " Zacharie huffed, "Didn't I tell you not to keep me waiting?"

Even when he was so desperate for contact, Zacharie still held his usual snark. The Batter had more work to do, it seemed. He let his hand trail down from the other's head, claws digging into soft skin as they traveled lower. They dug in deeper the lower they got, until thin red lines adorned Zacharie's stomach. Blood welled up from the thin scratches, which the Batter lapped up with glee.

Clawed fingers returned to their prize, and the Batter wasted no time in shoving two of them back into that tight heat. Zacharie cried out, back arching as he tried in vain to move his hips. The purifier's pace was much faster this time around, as he thrust in and out and scissored his fingers. He leaned over the masked man, pressing their lips together insistently. Zacharie eagerly reciprocated, opening his lips for the Batter's tongue.

"I'm so close, please," Zacharie whined, arms tightly wrapped around the Batter's shoulders. His body tightened like a spring, and right when he thought that tension would be released, the Batter yanked his fingers out and pulled back entirely.

Zacharie openly sobbed in frustration. He still couldn't move his hips under that iron grip, his weeping cunt tightening around nothing. The merchant tried to relieve himself with his own hands, but the Batter was one step ahead of him. He released his hip to grab Zacharie's wrists once more, and grabbed one of the stray tunics making up their current 'bed.' He took it in his teeth and tore it in half, ignoring the angry grunt he got in response. He used one of the halves to tie up the merchant's wrists over his head. Finished with his handiwork, the Batter sat back to admire.

" _Cher marchand,_ I ask again. Do you believe I am a divine being?"

There was no answer this time. Zacharie merely glared at him. The Batter huffed. He started to unbutton his pants, pushing them down slightly. Fishing his cock out of his briefs, the purifier pressed himself against the other's hips. Zacharie outright mewled, eyeing the purifier's cock with a heady desire. The Batter was a large man in general, tall and well-built, and his cock was certainly no exception. It rested heavily against the merchant's stomach, a small bead of inky black pre-cum dripping from the tip. He gave an experimental grind of his hips, and Zacharie threw his head back with a gasp. The Batter rested his hands on the man's hips, grip firm and almost bruising.

"You are beyond saving," the Batter sighed, "something so unholy can only be purged through violence. You will not find redemption in me, _mon cher._ "

Zacharie didn't respond, aside from a pitiful whine. The Batter wondered if he was even listening. He continued to slowly grind his cock against Zacharie's cunt, slicking it up. He could feel it throb against his length, and struggled to hold back a shudder. After a few slow thrusts, the purifier let the head of his cock catch on Zacharie's hole. He paused for just a moment, to make sure the merchant was ready, and started to gently press in.

The pace the Batter had set was absolutely agonizing to Zacharie. He pushed in mere millimeters at a time, his pauses painfully long. He wanted to wrap his legs around the purifier's waist and slam them together, but the iron grip on his hips kept him stuck in place.

" _Cher dieu, s'il te plait!_ I can't take this!" Zacharie cried, frustrated tears threatening to fall. "Please, just fuck me already!"

Looks like he finally cracked. The Batter's grin was predatory.

A clawed hand moved to grip the merchant's throat, and squeezed. The airy wheeze Zacharie made was music to the Batter's ears. He snapped his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. Zacharie made a high-pitched cry, arching his back desperately. Tears freely fell as he was finally filled with the purifier's thick cock.

"Repulsive," the Batter hissed, starting a bruising pace. " _une créature si impure._ " Zacharie could only moan in response. The harsh slapping of skin and hiccuping sobs of the merchant filled the room. The Batter's grip on Zacharie's throat tightened. He roughly pressed their lips together, taking the other's bottom lip between his teeth and sucking. Zacharie pressed his face as close to the Batter's as he could, craving the intimacy.

Zacharie's cries became louder and more frantic as he neared orgasm. The Batter showed no signs of slowing down, trying to angle his hips to fuck the merchant as deep as possible. He was so close, so close, _so close._ And when he was just about to crash over the edge, the Batter suddenly stopped, buried as deep as he could go. No. Nonononono _no._ Zacharie wanted to fucking scream. He was so pent up, he just wanted to cum. And the Batter _stopped._

_"Hijo de su puta madre!"_ Zacharie screamed, writhing in the Batter's hold. "Let me cum! Let me cum! PLEASE!"

"I'll let you cum if you answer me. Am I a divine being?" The cat catches the mouse, the scorpion stings the frog. Zacharie crumbles.

"Yes, _YES!_ You are a divine being, you're holier than any other creature in this miserable world! Your righteousness is absolute! O divine purifier, _please!_ Please let me cum!" Zacharie sobs, straining his wrists in the Batter's grip. The Batter grins, and starts to move his hips again. He's even rougher than before, and lets some of his restraint dissolve. It doesn't take long for that familiar warmth to coil once again in Zacharie's gut. The purifier releases his wrists, and Zacharie clings to him desperately.

"You may cum, impure."

Its all the encouragement Zacharie needs. He screams as his orgasm rocks through him, tears continuing to fall from his eyes. His cunt twitches around the Batter's cock, tightening into a vice. Its enough to send the purifier over the edge as well, and he makes a loud bellow as he cums. Zacharie whines at the flood of warmth in his guts, twitching with overstimulation. Some of the Batter's cum leaks out around his cock, starting to stain the tunics beneath them.

The two stay locked in place, trying to gather their bearings. The Batter keeps himself buried as long as he is able, even when it becomes uncomfortable. Eventually, he pulls out, and a new flood of tar-like cum gushes out from Zacharie's well-fucked hole. The Batter tucks himself back into his underwear and readjusts his pants, making himself look presentable. He grabs his abandoned bat from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder. He looks back at the merchant, who hasn't even bothered trying to get up yet.

" _Te voir._ " He says simply, a cold smile on his lips. While he can't see his eyes, the content smirk on Zacharie's face is all the Batter needs.

\---

In subsequent meetings, Zacharie was much quicker to praise his divinity. All it takes is a hand on the throat and a low hiss for the merchant to submit. It gives the Batter a sense of sick glee. He loves, no, _adores_ having Zacharie sing his praises. And with each adoring comment, the merchant becomes more and more sincere. He starts to believe what he's saying, starts to treat the Batter with a sense of revere, almost worship. Ultimately, having control is what the Batter craves, and the control he holds over the humble merchant is perhaps the sweetest tasting of all.

**Author's Note:**

> a whole bunch of translations:  
> querido bateador - dear batter  
> enlève ça, s'il te plaît - take that off, please  
> cher marchand - dear merchant  
> chose misérable, misérable - miserable, miserable thing  
> pinche maldito - fucking damn  
> cher dieu, s'il te plait - dear god, please  
> une créature si impure - such an impure creature  
> hijo de su puta madre! - (roughly)you son of a bitch!  
> te voir - see you
> 
> ANYWAY. hope you enjoyed! i wrote this in like two days lol. also had my boyfriend go over the spanish lines to make sure they were accurate/flowed right, so thanks randy ilu :]  
> i might make more stuff? either more batter/zacharie or just solo batter, but im not too sure. i just like the idea of batter having a sort-of god complex asdfdsdfgd


End file.
